


no mortal can love the moon

by sunmoonturtleduck



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Getting Back Together, Katara is Zuko's Bodyguard, Mutual Pining, Mutually Supportive Zutara, Post-Canon, Reincarnation AU, Slow Burn, Zutara Holiday Exchange 2020, Zutara/Omashu Parallels, idiots to lovers, or more accurately
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:20:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28223046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunmoonturtleduck/pseuds/sunmoonturtleduck
Summary: Despite threats of assassination, Firelord Zuko insists on traveling to the Earth Kingdom. His council refuses to let him leave without adequate protection.Good thing he knows the greatest waterbender in the world, right?
Relationships: Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 49
Kudos: 126
Collections: Zutara Holiday Exchange 2020





	1. Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nire/gifts).



> This fic takes place twelve years after the 100 Year War. Katara is 26 and Zuko is 28. 
> 
> The title is from one of my favorite books, "The Starless Sea" by Erin Morgenstern.
> 
> As always, comments and kudos are very appreciated!

“Where was he?”

“In an alley. Someone probably dumped him there after a fight.”

“Must have been some fight.”

“I’ll say. He’s losing an awful lot of blood.”

“It looks like his shoulder’s burned, too.”

“I’ll start making a poultice.”

“Someone get Master Katara!”

“I’m already here.”

The group of nurses falls silent at once, straightening up and bowing their heads at the sight of their boss. Katara pushes through them calmly, kneeling down beside the man in the hospital bed. She carefully moves the fabric of his clothing aside, running her fingers over the injured skin. She draws water from the basin on the floor, enveloping it around her hands. She rests one palm on the man’s shoulder wound, the other on his chest. Closing her eyes, she focuses on moving the water through the damaged tissue. The man groans, brow furrowing in pain. Katara doesn’t stop. She continues to focus on sealing his wounds until the last drop of water evaporates from her skin.

She opens her eyes. The wounds are still angry and red, but the bleeding from his chest has stopped, and the burnt splotches on his shoulder have been replaced with new, pink skin. A nurse arrives with more water, and Katara repeats the process again and again, stopping only when sweat beads on her forehead and the man’s wounds have satisfactorily diminished. She stands back, breathing heavily and wiping her forehead.

“The wounds will scar, but he’ll be alright,” Katara says. “Still, we should keep a close eye on him.”

She turns to leave, ready to check on the wing full of other patients, but a tired, beaten voice stops her in her path.

“Thank you, Master Katara.”

Katara turns back around to find the man looking up at her from his hospital bed, smiling weakly. Everything about him reminds her too much of another man, another tired smile, another thank you from years ago, and she can only nod stiffly in response.

“My word on this is final. I _am_ going to the Earth Kingdom.”

Zuko stands before his council with his arms crossed, meeting every concerned gaze with a glare. “But, sir, it’s too much of a risk,” one of his ministers pipes up. “With the recent increase in assassination attempts—”

“I have been publicly invited to attend the Earth Queen’s coronation,” Zuko interrupts, raising his voice. “Both the Northern and Southern Water Tribe chiefs and the Avatar will be in attendance. If I stay here, I will look like a coward. The Fire Nation will see it as weakness, as me letting the assassins win.”

“It’s still too risky, sir,” another minister adds. “It’s more important for you to stay alive than for you to be seen at a foreign ceremony.”

“No, what’s most important is unity,” Zuko says. “Publicly showing my support to the Earth Kingdom is necessary for solidifying our alliance.”

“But sir,” a third minister says. “You’ll be more vulnerable when you’re traveling.”

“It’s not like I’ll be by myself,” Zuko says. “I’ll bring my guards with me.”

The ministers share a nervous glance.

“What?” Zuko asks, his eyes narrowing.

“We have, um, great respect for the royal guards, but given their history with the past assassination attempts, we still don’t have full confidence they’d be able to protect you.”

“I’m the Firelord,” Zuko says. “I’m more than capable of protecting myself.”

“Of course, sir, but you should still have formidable backup.”

Zuko sighs. “What if I brought someone else, someone from outside the court? Someone more ‘formidable’ than the royal guards?”

The ministers look unconvinced. “Like who?” one of them asks.

If he had more time, he’d ask his uncle, but there’s no way Iroh would be able to make it all the way to the Fire Nation from Ba Sing Se in time. He could ask Aang, but the airbender has been notoriously hard to track down ever since him and Toph started traveling together. No one’s heard from Mai and Ty Lee since they disappeared to Kyoshi Island for their honeymoon. Sokka and Suki will be traveling to the Earth Kingdom on their own, with the rest of the Southern Water Tribe representatives. There’s only one person he can think of, one person who might be willing to help: the waterbending master who runs a hospital only a few hours away from the palace.

He bites his lip. He has no idea if this will work, if she’d even agree to it. But didn’t she say, after they last parted ways, that if he ever needed her she’d be just a letter away?

“Master Katara.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nire,  
> Happy Holidays! I hope whatever you're celebrating, you're having a safe and wonderful time.
> 
> This fic was originally supposed to be a 3,000-word oneshot but then it insisted on having a plot and I got a little carried away. Because of this, I'm not sure if it will be 100% complete by the 26th, so I'm going to split it up into chapters that I'll post once a day. The first five chapters are complete, the last few just need a little more work. I tried to incorporate as many of your prompts as possible, but I couldn't fit all of them in and I took a lot of liberty with the ones I used. I hope that's ok!


	2. Arrival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After three years, Katara finally sets foot in the Fire Nation palace again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to those of you who have given me feedback already! I really appreciate it.
> 
> The mutual pining starts this chapter, and will be with us for a while. You have been warned!

Katara arrives at the Fire Nation palace three days before they’re set to sail for the Earth Kingdom. It feels strange, returning after all these years. The palace still looms over the rest of the city, proud as ever, but there’s something warm about it now, too. The whole city seems warmer.

A woman named Ming greets Katara upon her arrival and leads her through the palace halls. She brings her to a door Katara recognizes as the one leading to the room she slept in the last time she was in the Fire Nation Palace. When Ming opens the door, Katara gasps in surprise.

She expected her room to look like the rest of the palace—covered in red and gold. She assumed these rooms were used frequently, whenever traveling representatives stayed in the Fire Nation, and were frequently cleaned and turned over. She was wrong.

It’s exactly as she left it three years ago. The bed is draped in that same blue silk, her old furs still rest at the foot of the bed. The Water Tribe emblem still hangs on one of the walls. Her stationary is exactly where she left it on the desk. Katara moves through the room, resting her bag on the floor. “He…hasn’t changed a thing,” she says.

“The Firelord reserves all the chambers in this wing for his friends, in the event that they visit the palace,” Ming says.

“But I haven’t been here for three years,” Katara says.

“The Firelord still insisted this room remain reserved for you.”

Katara looks around, unable to help a smile from spreading across her face. She’d forgotten what it felt like to be in this room. It almost feels like returning home.

“Would you care for some tea, Master Katara?” Ming asks.

Katara shakes her head. “I’m fine, thank you,” she says. “I think I’d just like to rest a bit.”

“As you wish,” Ming says. She bows before leaving the room, closing the door behind her.

Katara crosses to the window, pulling the blue curtains to the side. She has a clear view of the turtleduck pond from here, something she always liked about this room. There’s a lot she likes about this room, she realizes.

She arrived two hours ago.

She’s been in the palace for two hours.

Zuko should have been there to greet her, should have helped carry her things to her room. He should have thanked her for agreeing to travel with him on such short notice. Instead, he’s been hiding in his study under the pretense of reviewing last year’s agricultural figures, pacing back and forth, unable to shake Katara from his mind.

He’s spent the last three years wanting nothing more than to see her again, and now that she’s here, he doesn’t know what to do. Should he talk about what they shared the last time they were together, or pretend it never happened? His mind races through different scenarios, bouncing wildly from one possibility to another. He should go to her room. No, he should wait until he sees her at dinner. No, that’s not good either. Maybe he should invite her to a private dinner, separate from the court?

But he has no idea what he would say to her. If he’d known what to say after what happened on the night the hospital opened, he would have written it in a letter long ago. He’s never been good with words, not words like this. He knows that the second he sees her again, his voice will get stuck in his throat and he’ll say something he’ll regret.

A knock on the study door startles Zuko from his thoughts. He opens it to reveal his valet. “Dinner is ready, sir,” he says. “The ministers are waiting in the dining room along with Master Katara.”

Zuko’s heart skips at the mention of her name, and he knows right then and there that there is no way he’ll be able to make a decent appearance at dinner without embarrassing himself in front of the whole court. He clears his throat and straightens his shoulders in what he hopes is an authoritative manner appropriate to the Firelord. “Thank you,” he says. “But I have much work to get done yet tonight. I will be taking my dinner in my study.”

His valet bows. “As you wish, sir,” he says. “I will inform the kitchen.”

Katara sits between two Fire Nation generals, tapping her foot against the floor and glancing side to side. The sight of a room full of red-clad soldiers still makes her skin crawl, even though the war’s been over for twelve years and she’s spent the last three of those living only a few hours away from the Fire Nation capital. Food sits before them on ornately painted plates, but no one’s eaten a bite. Zuko’s seat at the head of the table remains empty, and no one is permitted to start without him. The generals and ministers talk amongst themselves while they wait. No one is quite sure what to make of Katara, and aside from a few awkward questions about the hospital or the differences between the Fire Nation and the South Pole, they mainly ignore her.

Katara doesn’t mind this. She’d rather they ignore her than notice the quick glances she directs at the door, or the way she keeps adjusting her hair so it better frames her face. She tries not to notice these things herself, tries to ignore the fact that her heart’s been racing at the thought of seeing Zuko again ever since she stepped foot in the dining room.

The door opens and Katara’s breath catches in her throat. She swivels in her chair, a greeting already rising to her lips. The words dissolve quickly, however, when she discovers that it’s not Zuko who has entered, but his valet. “The Firelord is currently occupied and will be dining on his own tonight,” he says. “He apologizes for making you wait and asks that you start eating without him.”

The generals happily start digging in, but as Katara looks down at her plate, she finds that her appetite has vanished.


	3. Moonlit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko decides to greet Katara at last.

He stands before her door, hand raised and ready to knock. It’s the night before their departure from the Fire Nation, and he still hasn’t spoken to Katara, hasn’t even seen her. He’s made excuses for being absent from every meal, filled his schedule with pointless meetings, and spent most of his free time in his chambers or his study. But he’ll have to see her sooner or later, whether he likes it or not. His ministers will insist on keeping her as close to him as possible during the journey to better protect him.

He takes deep breaths, trying to calm his rapid heartbeat. _This is ridiculous,_ he thinks. _It_ _’s just Katara. Just knock!_

He does.

He stands back, waiting. Nothing happens. He knocks again. Still nothing. He stands in the hallway for a moment, unsure what to do. He’d been so busy thinking of what to say to her, trying to account for all the different ways their conversation might go, he never stopped to consider that Katara simply wouldn’t answer the door. He feels a combination of disappointment and relief at her lack of response.

He wonders if she’s asleep, but something tells him that she isn’t. As he turns and walks back down the hall, he wonders if somehow she knew it was him knocking, and is ignoring him in turn.

Katara can’t sleep.

The moon isn’t full, but it’s close enough to keep tugging at her senses, urging her to bend any water she can find. She can feel the water of the turtleduck pond without even looking out the window. It’s too close, too tempting. She ties a robe around her nightclothes and tip-toes outside, closing the door quietly behind her.

The pond is just as beautiful as she remembered. Most of the turtleducks are curled up in the corner, but one swims out to meet her as she approaches. She raises the water it swims on into a small wave, elevating the turtleduck to her eye level. It quacks at her indignantly and she lowers it gently back down. She laughs as it swims away, shooting her a displeased look as it does.

She lifts more water from the pond and starts running through her basic bending forms. Standing here, bending the water from the turtleduck pond in the light of the moon, it feels all too similar to that one night three years ago, the night she’s tried so hard to forget. She’d been standing before a different pond then, bending different water. But there’s the same gentle breeze, the same sweet scent in the air, and she can’t help but remember it all.

She’d been so sure of herself that night, so certain that he felt the same for her as she felt for him. But then the morning came, and with it all her doubts, and she fled.

Katara lowers the water back into the pond, relaxing her muscles. She supposes she was right all along. Zuko never cared about her, not like that. He’s made his feelings perfectly clear by refusing to see her since her arrival. He expects her to act as his bodyguard, nothing more. Not even his friend, apparently.

Katara’s just about to return to her room when she feels something else pulling her, new water that wasn’t there before. It has a steady push and pull to it. _A heartbeat_ , Katara realizes. This isn’t water, it’s blood. Someone’s been watching her.

She bends water up from the pond and freezes it into a long, jagged icicle, turning quickly and aiming it in the direction of her spectator. He’s partially obscured by a tree, and she can’t get a good look, but as the ice soars toward him he shouts and deflects it with a punch of fire. The fire momentarily illuminates his face, scar and all.

“Zuko?” Katara asks.

He emerges into the open, where the moonlight illuminates him. “Yeah,” he says, shaking water droplets from his sleeve. “Thanks for the greeting. Next time, I’d appreciate it if it doesn’t almost kill me.”

A grin stretches wide across Katara’s face and a laugh bubbles from her chest. “Sorry,” she says. “I didn’t know it was you, I…” She trails off, her temporary elation at seeing him again replaced by all the hurt that’s been building up ever since he first snubbed her at dinner. “Where have you been?”

“I, uh…” He clears his throat. “I’ve been busy.”

“I see,” she says. The hurt is becoming anger now. “The great _Firelord_ has more important things to do than greet boring Water Tribe peasants.”

“No, that’s not it—”

“It’s okay, I understand,” Katara says. “It’s been years. Things have changed.”

She turns to walk away, still fuming, but he steps forward, grabbing her arm and stopping her in her tracks. “Katara, wait,” he says. “I’m sorry.”

She wasn’t prepared for his touch. It sends a shiver down her spine and she starts to lean into him without thinking before she stops herself and pulls away. “Get some sleep, Zuko,” she says quietly, turning away from him. “We have a long journey ahead of us.”


	4. The Journey Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko and Katara set sail for the Earth Kingdom. Awkwardness ensues.

Once they set sail, he attends every breakfast, lunch, and dinner in the ship’s dining hall. He waits until Katara is seated and comfortable to start eating. He even pours her tea. But no matter what he does, she refuses to regard him with anything more than infuriating professionalism. He asks her about the hospital, about Sokka and Suki, about the South Pole, about her niece and nephews. She answers in clipped, cold responses, like she’s talking to someone she just met rather than someone who once dove in front of lightning for her.

Their rooms on board the ship are right next to each other, a door connecting them to allow Katara quick access in case someone attacks Zuko in the middle of the night. It’s hard for him to sleep. Every night, he’s tempted to knock on the door, to see her, to talk to her. But, as always, he doesn’t know what he’d say.

She probably doesn’t want to talk to him, anyway.

Katara comes close to knocking on Zuko’s door every night.

She didn’t give him a fair chance to explain himself that night by the turtleduck pond. She knows that. He’s been trying to make it up to her, asking her about her family, pouring her tea. It almost reminds her of when he first tried to earn her forgiveness all those years ago. But her anger is as stubborn as she is, and it refuses to back down. It stops her every time she approaches the door, every time she thinks she should give him another chance.

A week into their journey, Katara dreams that she’s a helpless child again, cowering under Yon Rha’s menacing shadow. He tells her to leave, but she stays, unable to move. He turns away from her, raising his fist, ready to deliver the killing blow—

—to Zuko. It’s Zuko sitting before Yon Rha in her mother’s place, begging for mercy. Yon Rha doesn’t listen.

Katara jolts awake in a cold sweat, the memory of her own screams still echoing in her mind. It felt so vivid, so real, that for a moment, she’s convinced that it wasn’t a dream at all and Zuko’s burnt corpse is waiting for her in the next room. _I failed_ , she thinks. _It was my job to protect him_.

She rises from the bed shakily, still half asleep. She doesn’t even realize she’s walking toward the door until she’s already pushing it open. She steps over the threshold and looks inside.

Zuko lays in bed, asleep but perfectly alive. Katara lets out a small sigh of relief at the sight of the steady rise and fall of his chest. The last horrifying remnants of the dream fade from her mind, and slowly, the world begins to feel real again. She looks at Zuko more closely. Even in sleep, his brow is furrowed, like he’s in the middle of a fight. _Maybe he_ _’s having a nightmare too_ , Katara thinks.

He looks just like he did the last time she saw him three years ago; asleep, tangled in red silk sheets, long black hair spilling over the pillow and falling onto his face. Just like then, she longs to stay, to wake him up by running her fingers through his hair and planting a kiss on his cheek.

But just like then, she turns and leaves instead, closing the door quietly behind her.

He doesn’t know what he did, but slowly, Katara begins to warm to him again. When he pours her her tea at breakfast, her smile reaches her eyes. When he asks her if she’s heard from Aang recently, she laughs as she recounts the story of his and Toph’s recent trip to Omashu, where they destroyed an entire cart full of parcels by riding through the postal tunnels. She begins watching his daily firebending practices on the deck. She never comments, never even sits too close, but he can always feel her eyes on him as he runs through his forms.

After a few days of this, he finally gets up the nerve to ask her to spar.

It’s been so long since he fought a waterbender, and even longer since he saw her in action. He’s watched her heal in the years since the war ended, but he knows that it doesn’t excite her the way combat does. He wants to see it again, that ferocious glint she gets in her eye as she moves with her element, turning steam to water and water to ice.

Katara grins when he asks. “Of course,” she says. “But only if you’re willing to be beaten in front of your crew.”

“I don’t think I have anything to worry about,” he teases back. “You, on the other hand…”

“Shut up,” she says, already drawing water from the ocean behind her.

He lets her make the first move, shooting a geyser of water in his direction. He ducks to the side and counters with a blast of fire. She hurls another geyser toward him, freezing it into a dozen icicles as it approaches. Zuko produces a shield of fire around him that melts all of them before they have a chance to reach his skin. He breathes in, deeply, feeling energy pool in his stomach, then breathes out a long curtain of flames. She rolls out of the way, dousing it with water.

“Showoff,” she grumbles as she stands back up.

He chuckles. “Let’s see what you can do,” he says, raising his arms in preparation for her attack.

She smirks, gathering more water. “I don’t know if you can handle it,” she says.

“Try me.”

She launches forward without warning, catching both his feet in thick ropes of water and pulling him to the ground. He tries to get back up, but she’s quicker, coating the deck with water and then turning it to ice. It’s too slippery for him to find a purchase, and he only manages to scramble onto his knees. She pulls more water from the ocean and runs forward again, skating effortlessly across the ice. He’s seen her fight enough times to know what will happen next. She’s about to deliver the final blow, about to cover him with that water and freeze him to the ground, forcing him to yield.

As she draws closer, he takes a deep breath, then aims his fist at her feet. She leaps up to avoid the fire blast and loses her balance, the water crashing away from her grip as she falls. She lands squarely on his chest, knocking the wind out of him.

He looks up at her. Their noses are almost touching. He can feel her hot breath against his lips. He looks into her eyes and there it is, that glint, that passion he’s missed so much. And there’s something else there, too, something he’s only seen once, on the night before she left him.

And then she blinks and it’s gone. She pushes away from him quickly, melting the ice and rising to her feet. She holds out a hand, which he takes, and she helps him up.

“Let’s call that a draw,” she says.

“A draw it is,” he agrees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been wanting to write a sparring scene for a very long time, so this was cathartic for me.
> 
> Also--I might be a little late with tomorrow's chapter because of Christmas.


	5. The Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katara and Zuko's journey hits a rough spot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little shorter chapter today since I decided to split this chapter into two. Merry Christmas to everyone celebrating!

Katara jolts awake, sitting up immediately in bed. She feels like she’s woken up in the middle of battle, and her hand instinctively goes down to her hip in search of her water skin. She scans the room in search of what has woken her, expecting an intruder. Instead, everything is silent, and the room looks exactly as it did when she went to bed. After another cautious glance around the room, she lays back down. Maybe it was another nightmare that woke her, and she just doesn’t remember it.

Then she feels it.

The water surrounding the ship is in turmoil. It pulls at her senses, tugging her in multiple different directions at once, demanding attention. This is the behavior of an ocean about to explode.

Katara leaps to her feet, pulling her robe tighter around herself as she rushes out the door. As she turns down the hall, the entire ship tilts violently to one side, tossing her to the ground. She can feel the waves crashing over the deck, can sense the urgency of the water as if it is in her own blood. Holding onto the wall for support, she rights herself and continues to make her way to the deck.

As soon as she arrives on deck, a great, freezing sheet of rain soaks her to the bone. An angry gust of wind tears her hair from its braid, causing it to fly in thick, soaked curls around her face. Storm clouds have obscured the moon entirely, and Katara can barely see a thing. She can only sense the panic and hunger of the water around her, can only feel the wind tearing through her skin.

“Get below deck, Master Katara!” a voice calls. She looks up to find its source, but sees only rain. It must have been a crew member.

“I’m a waterbender, I can help!” she calls back.

Without waiting for a response, she closes her eyes, sensing the great rush of water beneath her. She can feel another wave building, about to crash onto the deck. She holds her hand out in its direction, reaching for it, calming it. She directs it back into the ocean before it has the chance to hit the ship. She relaxes, waiting to feel another wave. When she does, she repeats the process, stopping it in its tracks and depositing it back into the ocean. After only a couple waves, sweat beads on her brow and her breath comes in ragged gasps. The water is fighting against her.

Katara can hear the crew running around her, adjusting the sails and tying down supplies. She thinks she hears a few of them calling her name. Perhaps they’re telling her once more to get back below deck. She doesn’t listen.

She feels another wave rising. It’s a large one, too, larger than the others she’s had to wrangle. Taming it will require all her concentration, especially in her already exhausted state. She closes her eyes, centers herself, and holds out her hand, gently reaching for the wave.

“Katara!”

Zuko’s voice shatters her focus, and she turns, releasing her hold on the water. She can just barely make out his form through the darkness and the rain. “You can’t be out here!” he shouts. He races toward her, grabbing her hand and pulling her away from the water. She struggles, trying to pry her hand away, but his grip is strong and persistent.

“Let me go!” she shouts. “I can handle it!”

“It’s too dangerous!”

“It wouldn’t be if you just let me do my—”

She stops mid-sentence as she feels the wave rise from the ocean. It’s bigger than she originally thought. It towers over the ship, threatening to swallow it whole.

Katara stops trying to break free from Zuko’s grip and instead clutches onto his hand in turn. “Hold on,” she says.

There’s the briefest moment of stillness as the wave reaches its peak. Katara holds her breath. Even the wind seems to have stopped.

Then the wave crashes over the deck, knocking both Katara and Zuko off their feet and depositing them into the ocean below. Katara pulls at the water around her, trying to find her bearings, but her head is spinning and she can’t tell which direction is up. She can only feel the warmth of Zuko’s hand around hers as they slowly sink down.


	6. Before

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three years ago, the hospital opened, and Zuko invited Katara to his house on Ember Island to celebrate.

_Ember Island, three years earlier_

Zuko holds out a hand to help Katara out of the palanquin. She rolls her eyes as she takes it, reluctantly letting him guide her towards the house. “I think I can handle walking by myself,” Katara says as they approach the door.

“I know you can,” Zuko says. He releases her hand to open the door, gesturing for her to enter. “After you, Master Katara.”

She steps back, shaking her head. “Oh, no, after _you_ , Firelord.” She bows in mock formality.

Zuko scoffs, rolling his eyes as he crosses the threshold. Katara follows close behind. “You know, you could have just left me back at the hospital,” she says as they walk down the hall. “I do have an apartment of my own.”

“Yes, but this is opening night,” he says with a small smile. “It calls for a celebration, and the so-called ‘ceremony’ the hospital threw you was far too boring.”

“Since when do you care about celebrations?”

He stops walking, turning to her with a glare. She meets it with an innocent smile. “I’ll have you know that I have plenty of fun,” he says.

“Sure you do.”

“My life isn’t just one political meeting after the other.”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“And me bringing you here has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that King Kuei keeps sending me bottles from his rare, expensive wine collection and I have no one to drink them with.”

Katara grins. “There it is,” she says. Zuko only scowls in response, turning to enter the kitchen.

“…And then I froze him to a tree!” Katara barely finishes the sentence before she bursts out giggling. She sets down her now empty wine glass to wipe tears of laughter from her face.

Across the table, Zuko laughs too. “And I thought I ended things poorly with Jet.”

“Why? How did it end for you?”

He takes one last swig of wine before responding: “Sword fight.”

“I see,” Katara says. “Frankly, I’m not sure that’s much better.”

“Well, I’ve _also_ been a victim of your freezing, and I would definitely prefer the sword fight.”

“Oh, please,” Katara says, scoffing. “A little ice is nothing to a firebender.”

“You’d be surprised.”

He meets her gaze from across the table, and Katara feels a flush rising to her cheeks. She’s not sure if it’s because of the wine or if it’s because of the way he’s looking at her, with a small smile that makes his golden eyes crinkle at the edges. In the dim, warm light of the kitchen, he looks so different from the banished prince she had once hated all those years ago. The prince was angry, destructive, vengeful. The Firelord that sits before her is compassionate, kind, and warm.

Katara clears her throat. “Well, let’s settle this,” she says. “Duel?”

Zuko laughs. “A duel? It has to be close to midnight.”

“Exactly.”

“Ah, I see. No way. You just want the moon on your side.”

Katara rises, standing before Zuko with her hands on her hips. “The moon is always on my side,” she says. “But maybe she’ll go easy on you just this once.”

Zuko chuckles, finishing the last of his wine. “Fine.” He sets the glass back on the table before rising to stand beside her. “You want to duel? Let’s duel.”

“Do you yield?”

Zuko lays on the ground, his hands and feet frozen to the grass by large blocks of ice. Katara stands above him, brandishing a long, pointed icicle mere inches in front of his neck. He looks up at her with narrowed eyes. “Absolutely not,” he says.

He heats up his hands until the ice around them starts to melt, then punches through the ice that remains with blasts of fire. He continues sending fire blasts in Katara’s direction, forcing her to give up her hold on the icicle to jump out of the way. While she gathers more water from the pond behind her, Zuko melts his feet out of the ice and leaps upright. He digs his heels into the ground and takes a deep breath in, gathering energy in his core. Katara sends a water whip toward him, but he deflects it easily, responding with a long ribbon of flames. They continue to go back and forth like this until sweat beads on both their foreheads, gleaming in the light of the moon.

Zuko sends another fire blast in Katara’s direction, and she falls to the ground with a frustrated growl in her attempt to dodge it. She rises back to her feet, pulling a large portion of the pond’s contents with her. She rolls the water across the ground rapidly, and before Zuko has time to process it, she’s encapsulated his entire body in a frozen ball of ice.

“Okay, fine,” Zuko says, his voice muffled. “I yield. You win.”

With a satisfied grin, Katara melts the ice and returns the water to the pond. “I guess you were right,” she says. “Turns out firebenders can’t handle ice too well, after all.”

Zuko scowls, walking back towards her. “If we were having this fight during the day, things would go very differently, trust me.”

“Is that a challenge?” Katara asks.

“It could be.”

“Fine,” Katara says, walking up to him and looking up into his eyes defiantly. “Tomorrow. Before I have to return to the hospital. Meet me out here and we’ll have a rematch.”

“Deal.”

Katara steps back with a small, smug grin, then turns to look out over the pond. Her expression grows distant. “I’m kind of dreading going back to the hospital, to be honest,” she says quietly.

“Why?”

She pulls a large drop of water from the pond, balancing it between her hands as she speaks. “There’s still a lot I don’t know about healing. I’m not sure I’m cut out for it.”

He laughs. Katara glares at him. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing.”

Her glare deepens.

“Really, nothing!”

The sphere of water between her hands starts to freeze.

“Okay, fine,” Zuko says. “It’s just…I can’t imagine having your kind of talent and still doubting myself.”

The ice melts back into water and falls into the pond as Katara lowers her hands to her sides. “Talent?”

“Don’t pretend you don’t know,” Zuko says. “You can stop the rain. I’ve seen you bend a man’s blood. You took down my sister on your own. You’re the only reason I’m still alive!” He notices her gaze drop down to his chest, where, beneath his tunic, the lightning scar is still branded onto his skin. “The hospital is lucky to have you. Impossibly lucky.”

Katara looks up at him, her eyes wide and warm. His breath catches in his throat. “Thank you, Zuko,” she says softly, stepping closer to him. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. Not just with the hospital, but before…” She trails off for a moment before continuing. “Whenever I don’t know where to go, you always seem to be there.”

She steps even closer and rests her hand on his arm. Zuko can’t move, too stunned by the unexpected contact and too afraid she’ll break it. All he manages to respond with is: “I’m glad I could help.”

Katara smiles. Her eyes are still warm, but there’s something else in them too, something deeper, more intense.

Desire.

The thought of Katara desiring him, of all people, is so outlandish, so absurd, that if he wasn’t seeing it with his own eyes he wouldn’t believe it. But even so, against all logic, she moves closer still, her gaze falling to his lips. She tilts her head up and he finds himself leaning down to meet her. Her lips are impossibly soft against his, gentle at first and then hungry, demanding. His hands caress her cheek, then run through her hair, then travel down her back, craving for every inch of her. Her grip on his arm tightens, and soon they are stumbling out of the garden, through the courtyard, and into the house, clumsily seeking his room.

By the time Zuko awakes, the sun is already high in the sky. He blinks his eyes open, wondering how he could have slept in so late when he usually rises at the break of dawn. Then he remembers.

He sits up, expecting to see Katara asleep beside him. But the other side of the bed is empty, the sheets and covers smoothed as though no one had been there at all. He glances around the room in search of her, only to find it as empty as his bed.

He ties his robe around him before venturing into the hall. “Katara?” he calls. There is no response. Zuko hears a clatter of plates from down the hall and follows the noise.

In the kitchen, he finds Asuka, one of his servants. She bows upon seeing him. “Good morning, sir,” she says.

“Good morning,” Zuko responds. He scans the room but sees no hint of blue amid the red and gold. “Have you seen…uh…”

“Master Katara?” Asuka asks. Zuko nods. “She left a few hours ago. She said she was returning to the Palace to retrieve her belongings.”

Zuko’s brow furrows in confusion. “Retrieve her belongings? Why?”

“I’m sorry, sir, she didn’t give many details.”

Zuko turns to leave. “Pack my things. Tell the crew to ready the ship. I’m going back, too.”

“With respect, sir—” Asuka starts.

Zuko halts just before the threshold, turning back to her. “Yes?”

“Master Katara asked that you refrain from following her. She said that if you needed anything more from her, you should send her a letter.”

Zuko simply stares at her, momentarily frozen as he processes Asuka’s words. “Why?” he asks.

“She didn’t explain her reasoning. She left very quickly.”

“And you’re sure that is what she said?”

“I’m certain of it, sir.”

Zuko feels a lump rising in his throat but he swallows it down, straightening his shoulders as he nods. “Thank you,” he says. He turns and walks back into the hall. He keeps walking until he arrives at the back door, pushing it open and crossing into the garden.

The pond looks different in the daylight, the water bright and crystal blue. Zuko closes his eyes and breathes in, feeling the sun’s warmth coursing through him. If Katara had stayed, and they’d had the rematch she’d promised him, he’d have the advantage now.

Zuko extends his hand in front of him, palm facing up. He opens his eyes. His inner fire should be at its most powerful now, with the sun so bright. But as he calls a flame to his palm, it burns weak and flickers before sputtering out completely. Zuko clenches his jaw, his hand curling into a fist as it drops down to his side. He takes one last look at the pond before he turns, leaving the water behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been pretty good about updating daily so far, but the last few chapters are still a work in progress and they might take a little bit longer for me to post. Thank you for your patience! They will be up as soon as possible.
> 
> Also, in case anyone is confused about some of the tags, a lot of them really aren't relevant until the last couple chapters. Things are about to take a (hopefully) very interesting turn and they will soon make sense, I promise.


	7. In the Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katara meets an old foe.

She’s sinking. She’s falling. She’s dying.

She’s fought wars and firebenders, saved the Avatar a dozen times over, restored peace and balance to the world, and this is how it ends. Drowning. Freezing. Betrayed by her own element.

Katara tries to fight it, tries to reach for any water she can find, but the water has already decided not to listen to her. When bending doesn’t work, she resorts to thrashing wildly, kicking her legs in a futile attempt to pull herself out of the ocean’s grip.

It’s fitting, Katara thinks. She spent so much of her life afraid that fire would bring her death, but instead she will be consumed by the sea.

The hand clutching hers is one that has held fire. It’s capable of bringing the same destruction she feared so much. And yet, it doesn’t make her afraid. Instead, she clings to it, holding it closer, its warmth her only comfort.

Katara awakes abruptly and violently, lungs gasping for air. She tries to sit up, but her head is spinning and her body feels sluggish and disconnected. She raises her hand and reaches out, seeking water, but finds nothing.

When the dizziness subsides, she glances around at her surroundings. She can’t make out much in the dark. She can only see faint outlines of large columns, perhaps a shadow of a chair. She can’t see anyone else in the room with her, but she has the uneasy feeling she’s being watched.

After a moment, she hears it: the distinctive rise and fall of breathing. Someone _is_ here with her, not too far away. She raises her arm again, calling to any nearby water to protect herself, but once again her search proves fruitless.

Suddenly, a small light appears in the distance. Much to Katara’s confusion, it seems to be floating in midair. It also, upon closer inspection, appears to be getting closer.

As the light approaches, it only barely illuminates its surroundings. It passes a few columns similar to the ones Katara was able to identify, and she thinks she can see a few scrolls strewn across the floor. Even then, the light is too dim and her own vision is too unfocused for her to be sure.

The light continues to get closer until it stops a couple feet in front of Katara’s face. Up close, she can see that it is, indeed, floating. There doesn’t seem to be anything holding it up, no wire attaching it to the ceiling. It simply hovers before her, flickering softly. _Like a star_ , she thinks. Hesitantly, she rises, reaching out to touch it.

“Why are you here, human?”

A loud, booming voice startles her, and Katara tumbles backward onto the ground. She hears a loud _whooshing_ sound, then feels a strong gust of wind.

“Where am I?” she asks, and is dismayed to find that her voice sounds as foreign as the rest of her body feels.

“Don’t think you can fool me, human,” the voice says. “I know you couldn’t have gotten here on accident. You must have conspired with a spirit. So who was it?”

“I don’t know, I…” Out of the corner of her eye, Katara sees the heel of a familiar red boot, just barely illuminated by the light. She turns, gasping when she sees Zuko’s unconscious form lying prone on the ground beside her. She rushes to him, kneeling beside him as she brings her fingers up to his neck in search of a heartbeat. She sighs in relief when she finds it.

Her eyes skim over him. He looks weary, his hair thrown out of its normal topknot and cascading in tangled ropes around his face, but seems unharmed. He’s still wearing the nightclothes she last saw him in on the deck, just before—

A strong, insistent force pushes her away from Zuko, and Katara falls back on the ground again with enough force to knock the wind out of her. She looks up in time to see large, sharp claws wrap around Zuko’s body, pinning him to the ground. Katara squints in confusion. The claws don’t look like weapons, or like any kind of man-made trap she’s seen before. They look like the talons of a messenger hawk, only much, much larger.

“Tell me why you’re here and he will not be harmed.” The voice sounds closer now, like it is hovering above her.

“I told you, I don’t know where I am! I don’t know what’s going on,” she says. But as she takes a closer look at the massive talons, something about them seems familiar. She’s seen those before. _But it can_ _’t be…_

“You’re lying. Humans are such terrible liars.” Katara hears a loud rustling sound, and suddenly a huge face appears directly in front of hers. An owl face. A _very large_ owl face. It looks at her with quickly widening eyes. “You!” He roars. “You’re the girl that was with the Avatar! You took my knowledge for your own personal gain!”

“No, I—”

“Leave my library and never return!”

The talons around Zuko tighten. Katara rushes toward him, but Wan Shi Tong raises a massive wing and tosses her back. Katara barely has time to sit up again before the huge owl spirit spreads his wings, rises into the air, and soars back the way he came, carrying Zuko with him.

Katara rises onto wobbly feet and staggers after them as fast as she can. She screams Zuko’s name, but Wan Shi Tong doesn’t hesitate. “Stop!” she cries out. The spirit flies on, unperturbed, and soon disappears into whatever lies beyond the darkness.

The ground beneath Katara’s feet starts to shake, and she falls to her knees, grasping for purchase on the smooth floor. Before she has time to right herself, the ground disappears entirely, leaving Katara to fall once again.

When Zuko awakes, he feels like he’s still dreaming.

His head is fuzzy and unclear. He remembers waking up to the violent rocking of the ship. He remembers running to Katara’s room and finding her bed empty. He remembers rushing up to the deck and seeing her recklessly attempting to calm the waves on her own, her hair thrown back in the wind, her clothes soaked through with rain. He remembers yelling at her to get back to safety, remembers running to her, remembers holding her hand. And then, nothing.

The world around him now looks insubstantial, like everything is covered in a thick white mist. He blinks his eyes furiously and squints ahead, thinking at first that the problem is his eyesight. But when he looks down, he can still see his own body, an outline of red robes amidst the thick haze. Wherever he is, he isn’t imagining the mist.

Zuko looks around, trying to find anything—a person, a door, a chair—but sees nothing. There’s nothing in sight but his body and the mist. It feels constrictive and never-ending at the same time.

After a moment, he starts to hear distant echoes. He thinks perhaps it is the wind, or maybe an animal. But then he starts to make out full words, and he realizes that wherever he is, he’s not alone. There are other people here, too. Many other people, by the sound of it, and they’re in pain. Zuko hears wails, cries for help, pleas for mercy.

He runs through his last few memories one more time, desperately trying to understand how he got here. He thinks of the boat, of the storm, of Katara—

_Katara._

He looks around wildly, but sees no sign of her. “Katara!” he shouts, but the mist seems to swallow his cry. “Katara!”

He hears a wail, and this one seems closer, more familiar than the others. It’s long and agonized. Without thinking, he runs toward it.

“Katara!”

The wailing continues. He runs faster, ignoring the tired, weak feeling in his limbs and the fact that, no matter where he runs, he still can’t see anything through the mist.

“She’s not there, brother.” A familiar voice cuts through the other screams, louder and clearer. It sounds as though Azula is speaking directly into his ear, as though she is standing right at his shoulder.

But when he turns around, he can’t see her. He can’t see anything. “Where are you?” he asks quietly, his eyes narrowing. He clenches his fists, assuming a bending position out of instinct.

“You can give up, Zuzu,” Azula’s voice continues. “She’s gone. No one’s coming to get you.”

It feels like she’s drowning again, but without the water. There’s just hot, oppressive air surrounding her, choking her, as she slips further down a darkness that feels never-ending. Katara wonders briefly if she’ll spend the rest of her existence falling, tumbling over herself, never reaching whatever waits for her at the bottom.

Just as she’s resigned herself to this fate, however, the ground arrives out of nowhere. She lands abruptly, coughing and gasping as her head hits a hard surface. She lays still for a moment, groaning, colors flashing behind her closed eyes.

Once the throbbing in her head finally subsides, Katara slowly opens her eyes and sits up. The place she’s in now is brighter than wherever she was before, and she can clearly see her surroundings. She’s sitting at the end of a long hall with torches mounted on the walls. There’s a door at the other end of the hall. It’s closed, but something about it draws her attention, like it’s calling to her. Like it’s been waiting for her.

Slowly, Katara rises. Her body still feels shaky and unstable, but she manages to walk toward the door. It’s eerily silent. Even her footsteps don’t seem to make a noise.

When she reaches the door, she only hesitates briefly before grasping the handle and pushing it open.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your patience, I know it's taken me a little longer than I said it would for me to update this. The holidays and the general negativity on certain social media sites have made writing a little extra difficult for me lately.
> 
> Anyway...I hope this twist is at least...interesting? We're getting close to the end here, and I'm really excited for the next chapter (though once again, it might take me a few extra days to post it).
> 
> Also, Happy New Year! Let's hope 2021 treats us much better than 2020 did.


	8. Echoes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stranded in the Spirit World and separated from Zuko, Katara uncovers memories she didn't know she had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this chapter has a lot of angst, as well as crazy Spirit World shenanigans.

Katara barely has time to register walking across the threshold before the door slams shut behind her. She spins, hands running across the wall in search of the handle, but all trace of the door has vanished. It’s as if it had never been there at all.

Katara groans, slumping against the wall. The space she’s in is dark once again, though not quite as dark as the library. There’s a faint green light emanating from jagged crystals embedded in the ceiling above her. They don’t illuminate much, and all Katara can see surrounding her is dark black stone. She shouldn’t have taken the light in the hallway for granted. She shouldn’t have walked through that door at all. What was she thinking?

There’s something about this place that seems eerily familiar, but she can’t quite grasp it. Her mind is still sluggish, still reeling from the storm and everything that came after.

She slides to the ground, sighing, resting her hands on the cool rock beneath her. It feels like this is the first moment of stillness she’s had since she and Zuko fell overboard, and without the threat of drowning or enraged owl spirits, she can properly gather her thoughts. Katara runs through the last things she can remember as rationally as possible, trying to account for every last detail.

She woke up to a storm on the ship. She tried to calm the waves. Zuko distracted her. They fell overboard. She tried to bend them out of the water, but the waves were too strong. She woke up in Wan Shi Tong’s library.

_She woke up in Wan Shi Tong_ _’s library._

The full gravity of where she is right now finally hits her, and her entire body suddenly feels very cold. She hugs her knees to her chest, rocking back and forth in a desperate attempt to ground herself. If she met Wan Shi Tong, she must be in the Spirit World. And if she ended up in the Spirit World immediately after falling into the ocean, she must be…

Katara shakes her head. _No_. There must be a way out. There’s always a way out.

A new sound jolts her from her internal panic. Echoing through the cavern is the undeniable rhythm of footsteps, growing closer with every second. Katara rises slowly, instinctively reaching for water. Of course, she finds none. _No bending in the Spirit World,_ she reminds herself. Her panic returns as she considers an eternity without bending, with such a huge part of herself completely removed. She shakes the thought from her mind, returning to the current threat, and reaches down to grab a stone, brandishing it in her hand. Without her bending, she feels uncomfortably vulnerable and exposed, and as the footsteps draw closer still, she feels a kind of helpless fear like she hasn’t felt since she was a child.

Katara squints in the direction of the footsteps and soon enough, she’s able to make out the shadowy outline of a person approaching her. The figure appears to be human, and seems to be short, even shorter than Katara. As they cross into the light of the green crystals, Katara sees that the figure is a woman wearing traditional red robes in an ancient style. Katara narrows her eyes and tightens her grip on the stone in her hand, but the woman before her doesn’t make any move to attack. Instead, her mouth stretches into a wide grin, and the look she gives Katara is warm and oddly intimate, as though she’s looking at someone she’s known her whole life. Katara’s arm falls to her side and she lets the rock slip from her fingers and clatter to the ground.

“You came back,” the woman says. “I didn’t know if you would, after…” her voice trails off and she looks up at Katara, almost apologetically. “I missed you.”

Katara doesn’t know how to respond, doesn’t even understand what’s happening. She’s certain she’s never seen this woman before in her entire life, and yet there’s something so familiar about her wide brown eyes and the gentle flush of her cheeks. And the way she’s looking at her…

Before Katara has a chance to say anything, the woman rushes forward, clutching her face and capturing her in a kiss.

What happens next happens so fast, Katara doesn’t realize what’s happening until it’s over. The moment their lips meet, Katara is lifted out of her own body and left floating high above, watching the two entwined figures below as a distant spectator. She feels weightless, formless. She can’t move, can’t speak. She can only watch.

The woman below breaks the kiss and steps back, smiling up at her partner. It’s then that Katara realizes that the woman’s partner is not Katara herself. Instead, it’s the body of a man, a fairly large man, dressed in blue robes in an ancient style similar to the woman’s. He returns her smile, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close to his chest. “Of course I came back,” he says. “I would never leave you, Oma.”

_Oma._ Of course. The cavern. The crystals. The ancient style of their robes. These are echoes of myth, ghosts of the long dead.

Oma’s hand trails up Shu’s arm as she leans into his chest. “I’m lucky to have you,” she says softly. “Impossibly lucky.”

Shu buries his face in her hair as he says: “Thank you, Zuko.”

If Katara could speak, she would scream. Instead, she can only watch helplessly as the two figures below slowly transform from the two lovers of myth to a different, painfully familiar pair. Oma grows taller as Shu becomes shorter. Their traditional robes fade away, leaving Oma in full Firelord regalia and Shu in Katara’s favorite tunic. Shu’s skin darkens and his hair grows. A scar blooms over Oma’s left eye. Within minutes, there is nothing foreign or unfamiliar about the two figures standing beneath her. She is looking down at herself and Zuko.

The mist has darkened into a thick black fog. Zuko feels like it’s been years since he’s seen light. He’s finding it hard to remember what it felt like to see anything at all.

He has no problem hearing, though. The screams still surround him in distorted echoes. No matter how hard he tries to cover his ears, to block out the noise, he still hears it all loud and clear. Sounds of the chronically tortured plague him.

Those sounds are nothing, though, compared to the voice that cuts through them all. “She left you again, Zuko,” Azula’s voice says. “She’s not coming back.”

He tries to ignore her, but as the fog becomes denser and darker, he can’t help himself. “You’re lying,” he says. “You always lie.”

“You know I’m not,” she says. “You know she’ll always leave you, again and again. She can’t help it.”

“Stop it!” He shouts, but his voice sounds weak and small amid the din of screams around him. “Leave me alone!”

“Just give up, Zuzu,” Azula says. “It’ll be easier that way.”

He slumps over, his hands falling to his sides. “She did leave me,” he says. “I don’t know what I did. I don’t know why she left. I waited…” He falls to the ground, barely registering the sting as his body hits hard stone. “I waited years for her, but she never wrote. Never explained.”

“Of course she didn’t,” Azula responds. “Why would she? After all—”

“ _Don_ _’t_ ,” Zuko says, his voice barely above a whisper. “Don’t say it.”

There’s a pause, a brief moment of silence. Even the screams seem to have subsided. But then Azula speaks again.

“Your own father didn’t love you. Why would anyone else?”

It won’t stop. Katara watches in silent horror as every moment, every memory she has with Zuko plays out before her eyes. She sees him lunge at her in the Spirit Oasis, palm encircled with flames. She hears herself forgive him, watches herself leap into his arms. She sees Zuko lead her through the Fire Palace gardens as he explains to her how desperately the outlying Fire Nation villages need a good healer. She watches as they dance at the hospital’s opening ceremony, and notices how he looks at her when she’s turned away from him. She sees herself rise from Zuko’s bed in the dim light of dawn, sees herself look over Zuko’s sleeping form. Katara watches as she quietly gathers her belongings and leaves him alone in his room, peaceful and oblivious to her sudden departure.

The memories play out over and over again. They don’t cease, but they do, eventually, change.

Zuko turns and suddenly he’s Oma again. Katara laughs and Shu’s voice escapes her lips. She starts to see memories she doesn’t recognize, hears herself say words she’s never said. The moments between Oma and Shu and those between Zuko and Katara are becoming one and the same.

Katara doesn’t know how long it lasts. After a while, the voices and the memories become too overwhelming and she tries to block them out, waiting for it to end.

Oma lets out a shrill, blood-curdling scream that shakes Katara from her daze, and the cavern falls silent. Shu lies on the ground, an arrow lodged in his chest. Blood pools around him, turning his blue robes a murky maroon. Oma rushes forward, cradling his head with her hand. “Don’t leave me, please,” she says.

Shu smiles weakly, his brow furrowed in pain, as he chokes out a labored “Never.” He lets out one last, shuddering breath and Oma sobs over his body, clinging to his lifeless shoulders.

Shu’s body fades away, along with Oma’s cries. They’re replaced by deeper shouts of agony as her body transforms once again into one that is far more familiar. “Leave me alone!” Zuko shouts. He buries his face in his hands. “Leave me alone,” he says again, his voice reduced to a whimper.

This isn’t a memory, Katara realizes. Zuko’s wearing the same nightclothes he was wearing on the ship, right before they fell into the sea. Wherever he is right now, this is what he must be doing.

He’s kneeling on the ground, looking forward with glassy, unfocused eyes, as though he can’t actually see anything in front of him. His face is gaunt and pale. Katara wants to rush to him, hold him, but she’s still floating far above, wrenched from her body.

“She left me,” Zuko says. His voice is ragged and hoarse. “She’s not coming back. Why would she come back? I can’t offer her anything. I’m nothing.”

Katara tries to struggle, but with no body, there’s nothing for her to struggle against.

“She never told me why she left,” Zuko continues. “But I know why. It’s because I could never be good enough…”

Katara remembers what he told her the night the hospital opened, about how she shouldn’t doubt herself. It never occurred to her that he doubted himself too. He always seemed so confident, so in command. She’d never stopped to think that he felt any different.

_Does he not know that his country adores him?_ She wonders as she watches him weep. _Does he not know that the world thinks he is a hero?_ She thinks as he stares ahead, unseeing, shouting at nothing. _Does he not know that I_ _’ve spent every day of the past three years wanting to return to him, but knowing I couldn’t?_

“Father was right. I will always be a failure—”

“ _Stop!_ ” Katara screams.

She _screams._

She looks down and sees hands, familiar hands, moving at her command. She sees her feet, running across the stone of the cavern. She feels the air against her face, hears the dry, humorless laugh that bubbles up from her chest.

The world around her begins to shift as she draws closer to Zuko’s kneeling form. The green light of the cavern darkens to a dark black fog. The air becomes thick and suffocating. The sound of her footsteps is quickly drowned out by a chorus of screams. She doesn’t know where she is. She doesn’t care. She just knows that she’s running toward Zuko.

The fog is so thick, so dark, that she can’t even see her own feet. Even so, she knows when she’s found him. “Zuko!” she cries.

“Katara?” his voice is hoarse, almost beyond recognition. Almost.

She reaches down, gasping with relief when her hand meets his shoulder. “I’m here,” she says softly. She kneels down before him and pulls him to her. “I’m here. I’m sorry.” She runs her fingers through his long, tangled hair. “I’m never going to leave you again.”

Zuko wraps shaking arms around her, holding her tight as though afraid she’ll slip from his grasp. “I…” he starts to speak, but his voice is too weak, too damaged, and breaks before he can finish his sentence.

“Shh,” Katara says. “I’m here, Zuko.”

Slowly, the fog begins to dissipate. Dense mist turns to cold, turbulent water. Katara’s lungs scream for air and she reaches desperately at the water around her, discovering with great relief that her bending has returned. The waves swirl around her as she moves her arms in one great, swift motion. Her other hand is still grasped firmly around Zuko’s as she raises them from the ocean and deposits them on the deck of the ship. They cough and gasp for air as the crew rushes to them, shouting frantically through the rain and thunder.

Once the storm passes and everyone is safely below deck, Zuko tells Katara to return to her chambers and get some rest. She refuses, sitting down at his bedside and leaning closer to him. “I wasn’t lying when I said I’m never going to leave you again,” she says as she brushes a tentative finger across the ragged skin of his scar. His tired eyes flutter shut and he leans into her touch.

“Katara, I…”

Katara brings a finger to his lips, stopping him. “Wait,” she says. “Let me say it first.” She leans in, still caressing his scar, and kisses him. It’s a clumsy, tired, desperate kiss, one that speaks of separation and spirits and screams, but Katara doesn’t care. When she breaks away, she leans her forehead against his, closing her eyes as she breathes out, “I love you, Zuko.”

Zuko brushes his hand through her hair, smiling softly. “I have always loved you, Katara,” he says. “Please stay with me. I don’t know what will happen, with the Fire Nation, with the hospital—”

“Shh,” Katara says, bringing her finger up to his lips again. “We’ll figure it all out later.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am incredibly nervous about posting this chapter. I rewrote this so many times before I ended up with a version I was satisfied with. This idea seemed a lot more straightforward in my head! Unfortunately, I can't exactly draw on personal experience when writing about being stranded in the Spirit World. Hopefully this wasn't too confusing.
> 
> Anyway! That's the plot! The epilogue will be much fluffier than this chapter was and will be posted as soon as possible.
> 
> Also, if you enjoyed the structure/themes of this fic, I highly recommend reading the Starless Sea, the book that inspired both the title and many of the Spirit World elements. It even has an eerie, secret, underground library as well. That book is a wild ride, the twists of this fic are incredibly tame by comparison.


	9. After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko doesn't understand how they survived the Spirit World. Katara doesn't know how to tell him.

Katara rests her head against Zuko’s chest, her eyes closed as she feels the steady beat of his heart against her cheek. His fingers run through her hair, lazily tracing across her scalp. Katara sighs contentedly, already starting to lull into a gentle sleep. 

The soft timbre of his voice stirs her from her rest.  “How did you know how to find me?” he asks.

Katara ’s eyes flutter open as she turns to look at him. “What do you mean?”

“During the storm,” he says. “How did you get us out of there?”

Katara frowns, hesitating for a moment before she answers.  “I don’t know.”

Hundreds of floating lanterns illuminate the courtyard, their flames flickering gently in the breeze. Scores of wedding guests, all dressed in their finest clothes, laugh and drink and dance as the sun sinks below the horizon. The band plays an upbeat tune.

Katara doesn ’t notice any of these things. Her attention is fixed on her dancing partner, her husband, Zuko—the man looking down at her with warm, peaceful eyes as they sway to the music. She rests her chin on his shoulder as the band starts playing a slower number. She feels lighter than she has in years, wrapped in the gentle warmth of his embrace.

Then he speaks.

“What happened to you in the Spirit World?”

The question is so out of place, so unexpected, that Katara has no choice but to laugh. She draws away from him and looks up, confused.  “Really?” she asks. “You’re asking me about this now?”

He chuckles, leaning forward and pressing his lips to her forehead.  “I guess I’ve never had great timing.”

“I guess not.” She looks down at the ground. They’re still dancing, but slower, lazier. Her feet trail across the ground in rhythm with his. Katara looks back up, where Zuko is still looking at her patiently, and sighs. “To be honest, I really don’t want to think of that right now,” Katara says. “I just want to be here, with you.”

Zuko smiles, stilling his feet and pulling her into an embrace once more.  “Me too.”

The air is hot, too hot. She can ’t breathe. It feels like her spine is trying to break free from her body. She tosses and turns, casting the sheets away from her and then pulling them back around herself, stretching out her legs, then her arms, then arching her back in a desperate attempt to find some semblance of comfort. Finally, she gives up, falling against her pillow with a huff.

“No luck?” Zuko’s tired voice asks from the other side of the bed.

“No. This baby won’t stop _moving._ ” She glares down at her swollen abdomen. “It’s agony.”

Zuko turns to face her, his eyes only half-open. He doesn ’t rise from his pillow. “Maybe you should try telling them a bedtime story,” he says, a hint of tired amusement in his voice.

Now Katara casts her glare on him.  “Oh, really?” she asks, unamused. “Like what?”

“Like this: ‘once upon a time, your mom and dad ended up in the Spirit World, but your dad has no idea how they got out because your mom keeps dodging the subject.’”

“Are you serious?” Katara sits up straighter, crossing her arms as she glares down at him. “I think I preferred the kicking. Why do you keep bringing that up?”

He sits up at that, meeting her gaze.  “Well, I think it was a pretty significant moment in both our lives yet you refuse to talk about it!”

Katara doesn ’t say anything at first, but as her glare grows more intense, the water in the flower vase by the window begins to ripple. “You really think this is a good time to bring that up? Didn’t anyone warn you not to pick a fight with your pregnant wife? In the  _ middle of the night _ ? ”

Zuko sighs, laying back down.  “You’re right, you’re right. Of course. I’m sorry.”

Katara huffs, falling back against the pillows. She turns away from him in anger, bringing her hand behind her to rub the sore spot at the base of her back. After a few seconds, she feels Zuko ’s warm hands replacing her own, rubbing gentle circles across her skin. “Here,” he says softly. “Let me help you.”

When she doesn ’t protest, he brings his hands to her shoulders, warming them ever so slightly as he works his way down her back. The heat from his hands relaxes her muscles, and Katara settles against her pillow with a sigh of relief. “Zuko,” she says after a moment. “Do you believe in reincarnation?”

Zuko ’s hands still briefly before continuing. “Uh…I mean, of course. The Avatar—”

“I don’t mean the Avatar,” Katara interrupts. “I mean everyone else. You. Me. Do you think we’re reincarnated?”

“I’m not sure. I’ve never really thought about it.” He stops, drawing his hands away from her back. Katara whines in protest, turns to face him, and finds him looking at her with a confused, slightly concerned expression. “Where is this coming from?” he asks.

Katara looks away, her gaze settling on their bedsheets.  “Nothing,” she says quietly, turning to her side of the bed. “Goodnight.”

“No, wait, Katara—” Zuko puts a hand on her shoulder and she turns back to him reluctantly. “Do _you_ believe in reincarnation?”

She doesn ’t hesitate at all before answering: “Yes.”

“I’m gonna catch you, Izumi!”

“Not fair! You can use waterbending!”

“Yeah, well you can use firebending, so we’re even!”

“We are _not_ even! We’re surrounded by snow!”

Katara and Zuko share an amused look as their children play. It ’s winter in the South Pole, and they’ve spent the last three weeks in near total darkness. But tonight, the Southern Lights shine high above them, their bright, marvelous colors filling the sky. 

“Should we intervene?” Zuko asks, gesturing to their daughters chasing after each other in the snow.

Katara shakes her head.  “Let them have fun,” she says. “Better they get all their energy out now, before the big feast.”

Zuko nods, taking her hand as she settles down on the snow next to him. She leans against his shoulder as she looks up at the sky. They sit in silence for several minutes, admiring the Southern Lights and listening to the distant shouts of their children playing.

“Do you really think those lights are spirits?” Zuko asks quietly, breaking the silence.

“Yes.”

She turns to face him, and an unspoken question passes between them. Katara raises her eyebrow at Zuko, as if challenging him to voice his question out loud. He grins, shaking his head.  “I’m not going to ask you again,” he says. “At this point, I don’t think you’re ever going to tell me.”

Katara looks down, sighing. Her gloved hand trails through the snow absently as she speaks.  “The reason I’ve never told you is because I’m not sure I fully understand it myself,” she says. “The truth is, I don’t know how we got out of there. But I do know…” She trails off, looking back up at Zuko. “I do know that there was some spirit helping us out, helping us get home. Someone or something wanted us to survive.”

Zuko takes in her words for a moment, frowning briefly before he nods.  “What do you think it was?”

She sighs.  “I don’t know. I don’t think I’ll ever know.”

Katara holds Appa ’s reins tightly as she guides the bison gently to the left. The ground races past beneath them, the landscape dissolving into a blur of treetops and rivers. Zuko leans against her, running his fingers through her hair. She giggles as she pushes him away. “Stop it, you’re distracting me!”

Zuko leans closer, laughing into her neck.  “Sorry,” he says in a tone that betrays he really isn’t sorry at all. He sits back nonetheless. “Are you going to tell me where we’re going?”

“It’s a surprise.”

Zuko looks down at the forest beneath them as they fly past. He thinks about the time he spent wandering through forests that looked so much like this one during the war, back when he thought that he needed nothing and nobody. The forest had seemed so much more hostile then, when he was alone, not knowing where else to go and thinking he had no one left to turn to. It looks much friendlier, much kinder, with Katara by his side. With a small smile, he takes her hand and squeezes gently. She turns, offering a smile of her own. 

“We’re here.”

She pulls the reins back and Appa begins to descend. She lands him in a clearing lined with trees. A large cave sits off to one side, its entrance looming menacingly. Once Appa sees the cave, he backs away from it, huffing in disgust. Katara laughs as she jumps from his back, patting him comfortingly.  “Hey, hey, it’s okay,” she says. “I’m not going to make you go through there again.”

Katara turns to Zuko, a pleased, expectant look on her face as she gestures to the area around them.  “Do you recognize this place?”

Zuko looks around, furrowing his brow as he tries to find something familiar about where they ’re standing. “It’s…a cave?”

“It’s the Cave of Two Lovers,” she corrects, rolling her eyes. “From the myth.”

“Oh,” he says, the recognition dawning in him. “I think Aang told me about that a while ago. Didn’t you all get stuck in there during the war?”

“Yes, we didn’t think we would ever get out,” Katara says. “That’s why Appa refuses to go into caves now.”

Zuko frowns in confusion.  “Alright, so why have we—”

“We’re going in,” Katara says, smirking at the shocked expression that crosses Zuko’s face. “There’s something I want to tell you.”

“What is it?”

Katara reaches forward and grabs his hand, pulling him to her as she starts toward the cave.  “We’ll have to go in there first.”

He stammers in protest as he stumbles along behind her.  “What if we can’t get out?”

Katara stops just before the entrance to the cave, meeting his apprehensive eyes with a grin.  “Oh, I think we’ll find a way,” she says. “You’ll just have to trust me. Can you do that?”

Zuko smiles, grasping her hand tighter.  “Of course.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so, so much to everyone who's given this story comments and kudos! Your feedback is incredibly appreciated. This is definitely the most ambitious thing I've written for Zutara so far and it makes me so happy to know that people are enjoying it. I might return to this fic/concept someday but for now, the story is complete! Thank you for reading, I hope you all had a wonderful January.

**Author's Note:**

> Obligatory legal disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: the Last Airbender or any of its characters, and I don't make any money from this work. This is just something I do for fun.


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